


Our Kingdom Awaits

by transremuslupin (ashtrayandhemmster)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Merthur - Freeform, Reincarnation, modern!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 16:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4026274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtrayandhemmster/pseuds/transremuslupin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Former uni roommates, Merlin and Arthur Pendragon share an odd sort of friendship, one constantly teetering on the edge of something more. Merlin is plagued by nightmares, of which he tends to remember little, except the fact that a certain blond prat always seems to be present. Arthur is no less of a little shit and has a secret of his own. They're also a bit in love with eachother, did I mention? This leads to Twister, Karaoke and excessive consumption of Marbled Brownies and Vegemite on Toast. A fair bit of pining too, my apologies. Bit of a slow burner, this one, to be honest. INDEFINITE HIATUS</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Kingdom Awaits

**Author's Note:**

> Let's play 'How Many Merlin Quotes Can Monty Fit In Each Chapter?", and "Find The Tolkien and Harry Potter References." 
> 
> This one goes to Jess, because I like her. An awful lot. (Even if she doesn't know who Guy Sebastian is). 
> 
> Should probably point out that it's also unbetaded, please point out any errors you come across.

_“They know! Emrys, Pendragon, just_ ge _-” There was a final cry from Merlin’s communicator, and then static. Arthur and Merlin_ locked _panic-stricken eyes, knowing that this could only mean one thing. It was a testament to how well they knew each other that Merlin instantly saw the resolution forming in Arthur’s eyes, hardening with each passing millisecond. He began to open_ to _his mouth to object but Arthur cut him off._

_“Take it,” He tossed the darker-haired man the briefcase encasing the magical gem. “You’re the only one who has a chance to get out.” Arthur began to pull out his gun._

_“Wha- no!” Merlin exclaimed. “I won’t leave yo-” Arthur turned to throw him one of his fiercest glares, startling Merlin into silence. He wasted no time in using the opportunity to speak._

_“_ Mer _lin! This is_ not _the time for dramatics, pick up the case and leave! You know what will happen if Modred finds it.” He was already positioning himself in front of the door, weapon firmly in hand._

_The voices and footsteps of Mordred's guard above them, gradually becoming louder as they neared their location, served only to back up Arthur’s point._

_Merlin obliged, reaching down to grab the briefcase. “I’ll be back.”_

_Arthur snorted. "I don't doubt_ that, _your predominant personality trait being 'stubborn'." Arthur twisted his head to look at the other man and smiled._

 _Merlin didn't catch it. He had already_ began _to leave. There was a pulling in his gut, a cold twisting sensation originating in his chest that overwhelmed him. Take me to the Lake. Protect Arthur. He told his magic, weaving the words into the very essence of his power._

_And then he was gone, not in that world anymore, not in any land with a name known to humans. There were colours and images, that could not be named, not be remembered - certainly not by one born of a mortal woman._

_It was over. He was standing, albeit a bit ruffled, in front of the Lake. It took him barely half a minute to cast the needed enchantments - along with a few unnecessary concealing spells. The Lake would destroy the contents, but, he had learnt over the years that in this harsh reality it truly was better to be safe_ then _sorry._

 _He disposed of it. And then, as quickly as he had come, he left, with_ only _objective in mind: Saving Arthur._

 _He arrived back to fire, chaos, the smell of surfer - of a prophecy in the_ air, _and knew that it was over. That was the way it always ended. He’d find his powers and memories, he always lose Arthur. He had stopped hoping a long time ago that their fate might hold anything else._

_This didn’t stop him from fighting, throwing all of his power at the enemy sorcerers and using all the backlash from their enchantments to wrap a safe cocoon around his friend. He could still feel Arthur's presence, a golden light in the back of his mind. Slowly fading, fading, fading..._

Merlin awoke to the dark of the night, drenched in sweat, the dream already waning as if it were a distant memory. It was growing vague, becoming nothing but a vague recollection, except for random flashes of his best friend's face.

He had been having strange dreams like this for months, always frequented by Arthur.

The scenes depicted were achingly familiar, and they left him feeling unsettled, yearning for something, someone....

He sighed slowly as he climbed languidly out of bed and began to paint.

\-----

"You need to talk to someone, Merlin." Gwen's voice, disapproving and stern compared to her usual mellifluous tones, broke through his hazy state of mind. He lifted his head from where it lay cushioned on his forearms on the table to meet Gwen's gaze, wincing as the soft morning light hit his weary eyes. He took a slow sip from the hot chocolate, relaxing as the liquid slid down his throat; warming his whole body in the process.

"About what?" He blinked, deciding to feign bewilderment. It wasn't that he didn't trust her, Gwen had been one of the first people to welcome him upon his move here, and she was nothing if not a compassionate and supportive friend. But, he didn't fully understand his dreams himself, much less the strange things that happened during periods of heightened emotions. Besides, Gwen would just worry, and he didn't want to put any extra stress on her.

Anyway, it was common knowledge that Gwen could never stay mad for long. He would let just wait it out and let it pass.

"There's something going on with you."

Merlin stared back, unfazed, and clutched his hands more tightly around his mug, trying to leech the warmth.

" _Merlin_."

He blinked and continued staring, as if he couldn't comprehend what she was saying in the slightest.

Gwen took one last look at his impassive expression and sighed.

"I'm not getting anything out of you today, am I?" She tried to keep her face sombre, but the corner of her mouth twitched in affection.

Merlin gave her another blank stare, knowing that it was only a matter of time until...

"Fine!" She conceded, holding her hands up in defeat. She let a fond smile break through and then glanced at her watch. "Don't you have morning class today?"

Merlin sank back down in his chair.

"Well, if you aren't going, I could always get Morgana to interrogate you. _Actually_... she's coming by thi-". Gwen didn't have to say any more. Merlin had straightened up in his seat immediately at the mention of Arthur’s half-sister’s name, far too sleep deprived to face the older girl's sharp sarcasm and cutting-glass glares this early in the morning. He was now rushing in and out of his room, coming out bearing a new item of clothing each time. In between getting dressed, he was hastily gathering items into his beloved cross body bag and attempting to tame his dark hair, matted flat on one side from his nap at breakfast.

Once he had deemed his appearance acceptable, he started to head out of their shared apartment, pausing at the doorway to send a grateful smile in Gwen's direction. "I'm fine." He promised.

There was one final yell from Merlin as he rushed down the stairs.

"Give Morgana my love!"

\----

Merlin walked absentmindedly to the college campus a few streets over from their flat. Gwen and himself had chosen the location especially due to its close proximity at the start of the academic year, not willing to share a dorm with a sloppy, doe-eyed freshman, as they would likely have to after their previous roommates (Morgana and Arthur, respectively) graduated.

He walked leisurely, arms swinging. If Arthur was here, he'd probably reprimand him for the way his shoulders were slumping, and how he unconsciously hunched his shoulders forward, a self-conscious habit he'd developed in elementary and never really managed to get rid of.

He remembered his first day of university, where he had had the misfortune of meeting Arthur while he was with the college football teammates, or his 'posh posse' as Merlin had dubbed them. Saying they had gotten off to a rough start was an understatement. In the first hour of their meeting, Merlin had managed to call him a 'prat' exactly 13 times, 'clotpole' 8 times, 'dollophead' 6 times (he was rather proud of himself for thinking of that one), 'turnip head' 3 times, 'bone idle toad' twice and 'spoilt arrogant brat with the brains of a donkey and the face of a toad.' once. While Arthur's insults had been less creative, the words had held the same amount of heat behind them.

However, neither boy wanted to go through the fuss of filing a dorm reassignment form, so they decided to stick it out. Merlin met Gwen, known Arthur since they were children and who assured him that under the bitter and haughty facade, there really was some humanity in there. And eventually, Arthur's melodrama became not tiring, but amusing, and even endearing (though he would deny that until the end of days). And a unusual, but unyielding bond was formed.

His phone vibrated in his jean pocket.

"Bannacaffalatta!" The alien voice rang out, jolting him out of his reminiscence.

He'd had the same text tone for three years now even though he'd long stopped watching the TV show it was taken from, and yet the sudden outcry never failed to shock him, and today was no exception.

He slowed his pace, coming to a stop to lean on a signpost as he pulled out his smartphone, the screen enlightened by the text notification. It was Freya - a sweet girl from his figure drawing class, with a screenshot of the email their Professor had sent the whole class. It was a ritual of sorts they'd developed over the years as Merlin had a deep ingrained fear of unread emails, and so had stopped checking his inbox altogether, leading to him missing important updates. His eyes skimmed through the content quickly. He let out a groan that made a passerby send an odd look his way. His class, the class he had abandoned his nap at breakfast and set out into the biting cold morning for, was cancelled. He wavered, unsure what to do. There was a small voice in the back of his mind telling him he should use this opportunity to work on his midterm project, but that would involve going back to the apartment where it currently was, and consequently facing Morgana's intense questioning.

He decided it really was far too cold to linger aimlessly around outside, and raked through his brain for a nearby retreat. His mind landed on the vaguely dinosaur themed coffee shop near Pendragon Press promptly.

He pocketed his phone and resumed walking, now with a new destination in mind. Hitching up his bag, he tried to ignore the ever-present humming in his veins that was growing louder with each fitful nightmare, although usually subdued and inconspicuous, it was now awakened by the sudden shock that had run through his body when he was startled by his text tone. Iin an effort to distract himself, he began to recite The Elements song.

He didn’t notice the lean figure that was watching him from the end of the street.

\---

Merlin ended up going back to the apartment in defeat, but his hesitation was unnecessary, Morgana had declared it was simply too cold to do any form of travelling, and had decided to call instead. Gwen hadn’t acted on her threat, nor was she showing any sign that she would soon. Merlin was now perched on the kitchen counter, a long forgotten bowl of cereal in hand, watching Gwen's facial expressions with amusement as she reacted to whatever Morgana said on the other end of the phone line.

Merlin was listening intently but caught only a few muted words of what the Arthur's sister was saying to cause such a horrified look to cross Gwen's face.

"Morgana!" She reprimanded instantly in the same disapproving tone she often used on Merlin.

Morgana's corresponding shout was so loud that Merlin heard it without any extra effort.  
"HE SHALL SUFFER!"

This prompts Merlin to unleash a series of loud snickers, because he knew instantly knows who the other girl is referring to. Before he can contain himself, Morgana speaks again, this time with less volume. Merlin is too caught up in controlling his laughter to even attempt to decipher the indistinct words.

"Hmm. Hang on." Gwen lowers the handheld, placing her palm over the input speakers.  
"I think you should warn Arthur." Despite the solemn tone she tries to use, she's smiling widely at her best friend's antics.

Merlin sobers enough to ask "How long until Morgana declares war?".

Gwen's attempts to stifle their conversation prove unsatisfactory, because Morgana, with ears like a greater wax moth, manages to overhear anyway and responds defiantly. "I attack on Durin's day!"

Durin's day is a holiday traditional to the university all four of them attended, falling on the 30th of November. They would all dress up a first year in the most ridiculous fashion possible, as a rite of passage of a sorts. Merlin knows the event intimately, because each year Arthur and Morgana would compete fiercely each year for Best Dressed, and each year, by default, as Arthur's most impressionable friend, he somehow always ended up driving to Wales at 3am, with Arthur in the passenger seat barking orders, in search for the perfectly coloured Armadillo shoes for that year's unsuspecting sophomore because " _My god Merlin, I said I needed a 'soft magneta', not a 'violently ill pink_ '!". Thankfully, both Arthur and Morgana had forwent a 'sandwich' course, unlike Merlin and thus graduated last May, sparing him from the horror and panic of Durin’s day this year.

However, this meant that Merlin had, at most, only a week to convince Arthur to apologise (a feat in itself) and to offer some form of compensation.

With a resigned sigh, he leans over on his free elbow and drops the half-empty bowl in the sink. It lands with a sharp clang that draws Gwen's attention back to him.

She glances over briefly, returns to her gaze to the window, and then suddenly flicks it back, warm brown eyes turned sharp as she scrutinises the soggy coco-pops.

"Is that...orange juice in your cereal?" She finally speaks.

“ _Does he still do that_?” comes Morgana’s reply, followed by what could only be described as a fond chuckle if it anyone else but Morgana had produced it.

Merlin laughs nervously.

Thankfully, it was that moment that his phone decided to ring. He took it opportunity to escape Gwen’s questioning gaze, slipping out of the door with his worn petticoat in hand and answering the call. Odd, he thought. It was Arthur, nothing out of the ordinary any other day, but it was a Thursday. He brought the phone up to his ear in time to hear Arthur speak.

“Do you know how to play Go Fish?”

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: thetransremuslupinclub


End file.
